Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Bouncing as he walked me through the open garage door, his eyes and his personality got even sparklier as he thought about the paint. “I have a list of ingredients for it somewhere. Maybe it’s in a notebook? I wonder if someone around here could do it. They’re very smart.”
They?
The same kind of aliens or different kinds?
Different species would explain a few things.
“I’m sure you could.” Trying to be helpful would probably just end up making me look stupid, but I couldn’t resist trying to make him smile again. “What about the guy on the other side of town with the interesting plants? Didn’t someone say he liked making…things like that?”
What I’d actually overheard at the grocery store was that plant guy was a prick most of the time but he could whip up a potion to fix anything, but I didn’t think volunteering that information would be necessary.
“Oh.” Kenzie’s eyes got even wider and he skipped again before somehow tripping over his own feet and nearly face-planting before I caught him. “Oh, thank you.”
While he looked around in confusion like he couldn’t understand how he’d tripped, Kenzie’s mind just kept going. “That would be a challenge, but he might be able to fix the toxicity issue too.”
Probably.
Alien technology should be impressive even if they couldn’t use it for everyday shit without everyone else figuring it out.
His eyes were back to doing the happy twinkly thing as he looked at me like I’d hung the moon just for him. “You’re so smart.”
For a human?
For a cop?
For a Daddy?
I had no idea how to take it, so I smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
It seemed to make the little alien happy, though. He giggled and tugged me through a door in the back of the garage that led to…a toy store?
A second glance said it was a workshop, but it had an old general store vibe to me. With shelves of toys and workbenches that were laid out around the room and filled with half-finished projects, it looked a bit like my grandpa’s workspace from when I was a kid. But above the tables were shelves full of toys, old and in varying condition.
Yep, toy store.
“This is incredible.” I was smart enough to connect a few dots, so I turned back to the wiggly cutie after taking it all in. “You’ve done amazing work.”
That I’d realized right off the bat that he’d been working on fixing the old toys seemed to make his year. I got an ear-to-ear grin and his sparkly eyes twinkled like they had diamonds in them before easing back down to almost human. “Oh, thank you.”
For telling him he’d done a good job?
For recognizing that he was good at what seemed to be his job?
For understanding that aliens were functional members of society?
“You’re welcome.” Resisting the urge to kiss the cute alien’s head, I looked over at the ambulance that was in pieces on one of the long tables. “Yeah, I can see why that one needs paint. It looks like someone’s terrier got a hold of it.”
Scratches that looked like a dog had used it as a fun new chew toy marred nearly every surface, but I couldn’t see too many things that were actually damaged beyond repair.
Kenzie sighed, frowning at the toy. “A beagle, actually. It’s not in terrible condition, but I need the right paint to fix it properly.”
“Yeah, that’s not something you can run down to Walmart and get a can of spray paint to fix.” It was clearly an antique, not something that he’d bought at a dollar store.
His giggle said he thought that idea was hilarious. “No, the owner would not be pleased with that.”
Getting the answer to one question just gave me a dozen more. “So you fix toys for other people too? I wasn’t sure what kind of business you had.”
That got more wiggles for some reason, but he nodded and smiled, so I couldn’t have pissed him off. “I do a little bit of everything. I fix broken antique toys for other people, like the ambulance, but I’ll also find them myself and restore them to either keep or sell online.”
“It sounds like you have the best job ever.” Especially for a little. “How long have you been doing it?”
Nearly bouncing as he rocked back and forth, he smiled at his toys. “Since I was a kid. My grandfather did woodworking and fixed all kinds of things. My father makes furniture and I found toys fascinating.”
Understatement of the year right there.
“It looks like you found a wonderful passion and a great job.” No matter who owned the gingerbread house, he seemed like he’d found his place.
“Thank you.” Aiming those twinkly eyes and that beaming smile at me, he sighed. “What do you think about grown-ups that aren’t very grown-up all the time?”